


fight when you feel like flying

by ShyAudacity



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - War, Boys Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Archie Andrews, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, M/M, Mentioned Veronica Lodge, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, War, Worried Jughead Jones, a war breaks out at least, minor fluff, undetermined relationship - Freeform, yeah that works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: Six months later, two days before the end of the school year, Archie walks into the house after getting the mail, a blank look on his face. He comes into the kitchen where Fred and Jughead are.“I’ve been drafted.”Jughead snorts, “Into what? The NFL?”“Into the war.”ORAnother war breaks out and the boys get swept up into the middle of it.





	fight when you feel like flying

**Author's Note:**

> This took me longer to write than I thought it would. Anyways. 
> 
> Unbeta'd and title from Unsteady by X Ambassadors.

All of them were watching TV the night that the war broke out. Huddled and crammed together in the Andrews living room, listening as the president declared battle against a litany of other countries. The fight had already begun and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it.

After upwards of an hour of listening to all of the horrifying nonsense, Fred clicks off the TV and all of them sit there in silence. Archie, ever the optimist, looks around at his friends and all their parents, then speaks up and says, “Well, at least it can’t get much worse than this.”

Somehow, everyone agrees with him.

The next two weeks are weird. Every man between the ages of seventeen and forty-five are required to have a physical workup done by a doctor. It’s some sort of precaution, Sheriff Keller tells everyone, just in case they need men to fight. As much as it makes sense, it makes the whole town nervous.

Fred and FP just barely miss the age cut off. Jughead’s color blindness knocks him out for being eligible, and Archie laughs when half of the football team fails the drug test. Archie and a third of his friends all submit their physicals to the armed forces and then forget about it, telling themselves nothing is going to happen, it’s just precautionary after all.

“Are you worried?” Archie asks Jughead one night, seemingly out of nowhere.

“About the war?”

“About one of your friends getting drafted.”

It’s not until right then that Jughead realizes that he hadn’t put a lot of thought into, and he tells Archie exactly that.

“I don’t know,” He says. “I guess it’s just easier not to think about it. Why do you ask?”

Archie shrugs, looking up at the sky. “I don’t know, you just always seem to have a good opinion about things.”

Something about the way that he’s speaking makes Jughead think that Archie knows something that he doesn’t, but he decides not to dwell on it too much. There’s no need in worrying over something that’s not likely to happen.

Six months later, two days before the end of the school year, Archie walks into the house after getting the mail, a blank look on his face. He comes into the kitchen where Fred and Jughead are. 

“I’ve been drafted.”

Jughead snorts, “Into what? The NFL?”

“Into the war.”

The sound of glass shattering is suddenly the only sound in the room. Jughead runs outside a second later, loses his lunch over the side of the back porch. Archie comes up behind him, holds him from behind as he begins to shake.

Archie mumbles into his neck, “It’s okay, it’s okay, Jug. I’m gonna be fine.”

Jughead thinks to himself: _This is not fine, nothing about any of this is fine. You should not have to go war. This is not your fight. How dare they make you do this._

They call Betty and Veronica over later that afternoon, both of them gasp, then cry, and Jughead can’t bear to look at them as they hide their faces in Archie’s chest. As it would turn out, twenty other guys in their graduating class got drafted too, all of them ship out by the end of the month.

Jughead spends the two full days before Archie ships out at the Andrews house, trying to act like they don’t know what’s coming.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I think you underestimate how long four years actually is, Arch.”

The night before he leaves, neither one of them can sleep. Semi curled around him in bed, Jughead asks, “Are you scared?”

“Ask me again in the morning.”

Fred and Archie say their goodbyes in the driveway, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. Betty and Veronica tag along to the airport, take their time hugging him, then, in turn, hold on to each other when they’re done.

Jughead waits until they’re right outside the gate, puts his hands on either side of Archie’s face. He’s trying to memorize it, he wants to remember what Archie looks like before this war inevitably ruins him. 

“Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“Are you really in a position to be asking me that?”

Archie rolls his eyes.

“All you have to do is come back,” Jughead tells him. “That’s it. Just survive long enough to make it home. Okay?”

“I’m not exactly in a place to be making promises-.”

“I know, I know just-… I’m not very good at missing people. It doesn’t tend to work out in my favor.”

Archie nods then wraps his arms around Jughead’s waist. He gives it a minute before he mumbles into his neck, “Jughead, I need you to let go… because I don’t think that I can.”

It’s hands down the hardest thing that he’s ever done, but Jughead lets his arms fall from Archie’s shoulders, takes two steps back and swallows the lump in his throat.

He swears that he’ll never forgive himself for letting Archie walk away.

***

The first letter comes two weeks into base camp. Archie says that both Reggie and Moose are in his battalion, so he’s not as alone as he’d thought he’d be. The food is bad, the beds even worse, but he’s getting by, there are more important things to focus on.

_I get to come home for a few days after basic training is over… but I don’t know if I can do it. Coming home only to say goodbye again so soon is too hard._

Jughead says he understands, even though it hurts. After all, it’s hard to be mad at someone who’s fighting a war.

***

_Dear Jughead,_

_There’s a guy here who laughs like you do, but he’s nowhere near as funny. I think you might like him. Most of the guys here aren’t much older than us. It’s like the whole world came out to fight or something._

_I know that you wish you were here with me, but I’m glad that you’re not, Jug. I don’t think I’d be able to focus if you were over here fighting with all of us._

_Don’t worry about me too much, I’ll be back before you know it._

_Love, Archie._

***

As much as he never got along with his birthday, Jughead could always count on Archie being there, even all the times that he swore he didn’t want anyone around. Waking up alone on his nineteenth birthday and then realizing that this will be the first birthday in years that Archie won’t be around, well, that’s more of a kick in the face than he thought it would be.

He’s only been away for six months and Jughead has to keep himself from thinking about it too much just to refrain from being sad all the time.

Betty insists on taking him out Pop’s to for lunch, then keeps checking her phone every few minutes. Subtly has never been one of her best qualities. Jughead tries to call her out on it, asks if she’s dating somebody that he doesn’t know about. She sputters, but before she can answer the bell above the door rings. Betty smiles almost wickedly, and Jughead realizes exactly what’s happening.

He can’t stand up fast enough.

Archie is standing there in jeans and his favorite t-shirt, a stupid grin on his face.

“What? Did you actually think that I’d miss your birthday?”

Jughead knocks him to the floor with his hug, half laughing and half crying all the while. He only pulls his face out of Archie’s neck to kiss him, not caring that someone is definitely staring. This is the best birthday that he’s ever going to have, nothing else is ever going to top this. Jughead doesn’t let go even after they stand up.

“What- How-?”

“Ten days,” Archie says with a smile. “I got ten days off. I wanted to surprise you I hope that’s okay.”

Jughead nods, thinking to himself: _how could someone let such a pure heart go out to war?_

***

_Dear Jug,_

_I dream about you sometimes, it reminds me why I’m here, all things that I’m fighting to keep safe back home. Gives me the motivation to wake up in the morning._

_I know that you already know this, but Moose is dead. Someone said that he took some shrapnel to the chest last week. I knew going into this that I was bound to lose friends sometime, but I guess I just always thought that it wouldn’t happen to me. Like maybe I’d get lucky or something._

_God, I miss you, Juggie. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. I’m so ready to be home with you again._

_Don’t miss me too much, alright?_

_(Believe me, I’m doing enough for the both of us)_

_Love, Archie._

***

Four years. Four years of letters. Four years of Archie coming and going back to war, only seeing him for a few days at a time, each time returning a little less like himself, but he still comes back. That’s about all that Jughead can ask for.

Two months before the end of his tour, Archie’s home for a week. The first night, they’re all having dinner at the house when Fred asks about the end of his tour, wants to know when he’s going to be home for good.

Archie puts his napkin down, pulls a sheepish face.

“Actually, I’ve already signed up for another tour. Two more years.”

The silence that follows feels all too familiar, reminds them all of the day he learned he was being drafted.

Jughead gets up out of frustration, walks out the front door. He’s pacing around the driveway when Archie follows him outside a few minutes later.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to.”

“When? In two months? Right before you ship out again? You couldn’t tell me in one of those dozens of letters that you’ve sent in the last six months? I- How could you keep this from me? I thought we told each other things like this, important things.”

“The war is still going on, Jughead. They need me to fight.”

He yells, “Did you ever think that maybe _people need you here_ , too?”

Archie’s face falls, but Jughead keeps going.

“I can’t… I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

Archie doesn’t have a response to that, and Jughead walks off, goes back to the trailer to sulk. He can’t be around Archie right now, he’s too upset. He’s mostly just angry at the world for not having their shit together yet, for continuing to keep Archie away from him.

At the end of the week, he lets Archie leave without kissing him, and it kind of feels like a breakup.

***

_Remember that time we were playing video games and I said that war is hell? I was wrong, Jug._

_It’s so much more than that._

***

The letters slow, get shorter with each one, but they don’t stop coming. Jughead doesn’t know what to make of them half the time, he’s just relieved that Archie is still thinking of him despite always being in the middle of someone else’s fight.  

Archie comes home for three days, right around Jellybean’s birthday; he’s far more tense than usual, but Jughead decides not to press it. Someone insists that they celebrate, seeing as all of them are in town at the same time for the first time in two years. The Jones’, The Andrews men, Betty and Veronica all squeeze into the tiny kitchen of the trailer and Archie rushes off after the candles are blown out.

Confused, Jughead follows him, finds him outside out of breath and panicked at the bottom of the steps, looking green in the face. He holds Archie’s face in his hands as gently as he can, trying to get to him to focus.

“Hey, Arch, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Archie’s breath stutters inside his chest as he tries to make the words come out.

“I… I think I killed a kid.”

Jughead lets his hand go slack but doesn’t stop touching Archie, pulls him in for a bone crushing hug after he’s had a second to process what he’s said.

Archie hides his face in Jughead’s neck like he always does; it takes him a while before he can actually let go. The pair skips out on the rest of the party, Jughead can make it up to Jellybean some other time, Archie needs him right now.  

They don’t have a chance- or the time- to talk about what he said before Archie has to go back the next morning, but Jughead prays that this does not eat him alive like he thinks it will.

***

_Sometimes I think that all this fighting is more than I’m equipped to deal with._

***

Jughead knows that something is wrong before the phone even rings.

He wakes up at three in morning with the most horrible feeling in his chest. Fred calls him ten minutes later, and Jughead has a debate with himself as to whether or not he should answer it, afraid of what he’s going to say.

“He’s done. I don’t know why- they wouldn’t give me all the details, but he’s done. He’s coming home, _for good_.”

Fred promises to call him once he knows more. So Jughead gives it a day. Then two. Then a week. After two weeks of radio silence, Jughead is tired of waiting so he marches himself over to the Andrews house, lets himself in as soon as Fred opens the door.

“Where is he?”

“Jug-.” 

“You said that he was done for good, and there’s no way he would have left town without telling me first so where _the hell_ is he?”

“Upstairs, but- Jughead, wait.”

Jughead takes to the stairs two at a time, his beanie nearly falling off his head more than once. He pushes open the door to Archie’s room, and for a minute he regrets coming over here in the first place.

Archie is in bed, an arm draped over his face and curled up on his side, and that’s how Jughead knows that something is really wrong. Archie only ever sleeps on his back, always has, swears it’s the only way he can fall asleep.

Jughead looks back at Fred, a nearly horrified look on his face.

“I can’t get him out of bed.” He says quietly, stuffing his hands inside his pockets.   

Jughead looks back to Archie, stands there for a few seconds thinking about the whole thing before making up his mind. He kicks off his shoes before settling himself on the bed, crossing his legs, his jeans just barely brushing Archie’s back.

Jughead sits there next to him until Archie rolls onto his back, looks up at him with bleary eyes and hoarsely says, “I told him not to call you.”

“Did you really think that you could get rid of me that easily?” He challenges, voice quiet.

Archie rolls back onto his side but doesn’t ask him to leave, so Jughead counts it as a win.

The first nightmare happens a few hours later. Jughead hadn’t even realized that Archie had fallen asleep. He’d gotten up to use the bathroom and came back to find Archie making pained noises in his sleep, fighting something that only he could see. He sat straight up in bed almost as soon as Jughead put a hand on him; Jughead had just barely missed the fist that came flying towards his face.

“Whoa-. Hey, _hey_ it’s just me. It’s Jughead.” He says as calmly as he can manage.

Once he’s come back to himself, Archie’s hands shake as he hides his face in his knees, and Jughead wraps himself around Archie the same way he always has. One arm snug around his waist and his other hand nestled in his hair. It’s so familiar- so much of what he’s been missing since Archie left that he feels like he could cry, but he doesn’t, this isn’t about him right now. 

Jughead talks quietly in his ear, somehow convinces him into going to Pop’s, says that a burger and milkshake are always good.

Seeing Archie in regular clothes again, his favorite jeans and a t-shirt, it makes Jughead forget for a minute about all the shit that’s going on. Then, he sees the hardened features of Archie’s face. The way that his mouth stays in a straight line as if he forgot how to smile, and it all comes back to Jughead like a kick to the stomach.

It reminds of the day Archie first shipped out, how intently he had stared at Archie’s face and willed himself to try and remember it. He can still picture it now if he closes his eyes and thinks about it hard enough.  

_How could someone let this happen? How could you have gotten this bad without anyone realizing it?_

By some miracle, Archie finally opens up to him on the walk over to Pop’s.

“They sent me home for being depressed. If you can believe that.” He states. “I knew that I hadn’t been feeling like myself after what happened with the kid but- I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t dealing with it like I thought I was.”

“Have you told anyone about it? What happened with the kid?”

Archie scoffs; they stop walking.

“No, dude, I’m serious. I can’t be the only one that you tell these things to. That’s not going to fix this.”

He glares at Jughead while he continues.

“I know that this isn’t what you wanna hear right now, but you need help. Real help. Not just from me or your dad, like a professional. It sounds like a load of crap, I know, but it’s the only way that this is going to get any easier for you. Please, Archie… I want my friend back.”

Archie looks at him for a long moment before stepping forward and kissing him for the first time in over a year- _too long_ \- then presses his forehead against Jughead’s.

“Okay,” He says. “… I’ll talk to someone.”

Jughead weaves their hands together where they hang between the two of them. The sun starts to set off in the distance behind them, and it finally starts to feel like things are getting back to the way they were before- the way that they should be.

Archie keeps up on his promise. He finds a therapist who specializes in patients with PTSD and starts going to therapy once a week. Jughead goes with him a few times. He listens as Archie admits to how guilty he feels about the kid and all the friends he lost, how they should have come home with him, that they should be here instead of him.

It’s bizarre, to say the least, watching Archie fall apart about these things. Jughead is so used to associating Archie with being one of if not the strongest guy that he knows. But all this- the nightmares, therapy, the new sensitivities to certain sounds and touches, it’s taken some getting used to. Jughead didn’t think that he’d have to relearn his best friend, but if it means keeping him around, having him get better, then he’d do anything.

Two months later, Jughead finds a letter on the desk in Archie’s room. It’s addressed to him in Archie’s handwriting, dated back before he came home, before he ever enlisted for a second tour. All it says is:

_Thank you for giving me something to come home to. I needed a reason to get out of this war._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and Comments are appreciated and encouraged. If you wanna talk riverdale you can find me on tumblr as archieandrewprotectionsquad. Thanks again for reading, and have a great day!


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